Here Comes the Sun
by Tadpole24
Summary: She should have known that when the first word out of her mouth this morning was an expletive, it was all downhill from there. Captain Swan - AU.
1. Chapter 1

_**Corny titles are fun okay (you'll see).**_

 _ **This is just a little tale based on a prompt from tumblr which was given in celebration of my 10 year anniversary on this website right here. Can't believe I've been here for a decade and hope I have another decade in me to write. Thank you all so much for all your support over the years!**_

 _ **I actually have a little idea of how to extend this too…if you might be so inclined.**_

…

Here Comes the Sun

…

She should have known that when the first word out of her mouth this morning was, "Fuck," that the rest of the day was always going to head straight on downhill. To start with, it's raining. And, for some reason, she had decided grocery shopping after work was a great way to spend the evening of a day that had been god awful from the second she had awoken with a splitting headache, approximately 20 minutes later than her alarm was mean to go off. The gas _and_ electricity were out in her apartment, leaving her without a shower, without coffee and without a lot of tolerance for the whole day.

Grocery shopping for comfort food had turned into an expensive affair and left her a little short when she'd gone to put petrol in her car. But she's home now and it's Friday and she can see the light at the end of the long and dark tunnel, if only she could get herself untangled from the mess of groceries and keys and her purse, out of the car and through the heavy rain to the comfort of her apartment.

Grunting, she pushes at the car door with her boot, kicking it and bracing for the rush of cool air and rain hitting her face. What she gets, however, is a distinct, "Fuck," before a man on a bike rides straight into her open door, thudding heavily and falling to the ground in the puddle she seems to have parked herself in.

Her eyes widen and she pushes her groceries off her lap and onto the passenger seat, "Shit! I'm so sorry, I'm _so_ sorry!"

The guy looks up at her with a dismissive wave, something she recognises very clearly as being done with the world, "It's fine, lass."

It seems that he's English, by the sounds of him.

In the interest of kindness (and nothing to do with the fact that she seems to have come across a very good looking man), she's already forgotten about the fact that it's raining and is out of the car, kneeling next to him, reaching out to help him up, "Are you injured?"

He pats down his chest, "Ego's a little bruised, but no lasting damage."

She frowns at him though. He seems to have a graze down his arm which, she has only just realised, is uncovered. The rain is pelting down in sheets now and she can't fathom why someone would be wearing a t-shirt in this weather. "What's that then?"

He sits up, turning his arm to get a better look, before shrugging, "Not a thing. I had best be on my way."

But she's not letting it go that easily, "Come on, my apartment's just here. Let me patch that up. It's the least I can do."

He narrows his eyes at her, as though actually taking her in for the first time, "Is this how you lure all your prey in? Injure them, the offer to help them?"

She rolls her eyes. Well if he's going to be like that… "Look, I was just…"

But he cuts her off, seeing that he's upset her. And he can't tell what it is just yet, but he gets the feeling that this is someone who he truly wouldn't want to upset, "Okay. What's five minutes?"

As they both clamour to their feet, she holds out her hand in greeting, "Emma Swan."

He takes it as he pulls his bike up next to him, "Killian Jones."

It's a weird feeling that washes over her upon his introduction, but it's almost as though she doesn't want to let his hand go, just wants to hold onto it a little longer. So, to break the odd tension she feels within herself, she leans over to pick up her groceries from the car seat and begins the trek towards her apartment.

He leaves his bike in the foyer, following her up the stairs, the both of them trailing a steady stream of rain droplets on the ground behind them. She can feel the water running down her face and can't imagine how scary she must look right now. No wonder he had been hesitant about coming up to her apartment in the first place.

"So you know it's cold out there, right?" she mentions as she unlocks her door, entering before him and trying to tidy as she walks through the corridor towards her kitchen.

He shrugs, "Aye," and Emma's a little concerned about his mental stability if he can acknowledge that but not seem to see the problem with the fact that he's not wearing a jacket of any description.

"I just mean, you might not have hurt yourself if you had been wearing a few more layers?" she finishes on a question, unsure if she's treading on toes. Maybe he only recently moved to America, maybe England is a whole lot colder than here, maybe she should just mind her own business. But she's curious by nature and her job as a bail bondsperson comprises of a whole lot of asking questions, which is a tough habit to break.

He smirks at her and then sighs in resignation, "A dog ate it."

Of all the things that she had been expecting, _that_ had not been one of them.

Her mouth opens and closes a few times before she settles for, "What?"

He nods, almost on the verge of laughing at her reaction, "It's been a long day."

She thinks about the way he'd waved off her apologies on the street and it makes a little more sense to her than it did before. It seems she's not the only one who has just had to accept their lot in life today, "Yeah, I know about those."

She indicates that he should take a seat at her breakfast bar while she gets her first aid kit and it hits her for the first time that she's just invited a complete stranger into her home. To distract herself from the direction that thought is going in, she asks him to continue, "You can't leave me hanging with that one. A dog ate your jacket? I'm definitely going to need some kind of explanation."

Killian nods, hissing as Emma dries his arm with a towel and begins to clean his graze, "Right you are, lass." He thinks for a moment, trying to decide where and when to start this woeful tale as Emma dabs lightly at his arm. "My roommate works with animals. He usually takes the dogs for a walk in the morning, but today he was meeting his girlfriend for breakfast and left the dogs in our front courtyard near the driveway." Emma nods along with the story – so far so good. Killian watches her carefully gaging her reaction and hoping he doesn't sound insane, "The rest was basically a combination of me forgetting my wallet, being too lazy to take the things I was carrying, which included the jacket and several important documents, back inside while I retrieved the bloody thing and then realising what an awful mistake that was, especially since the dogs had just had breakfast and wanted to keep going with the whole eating thing."

Emma's nearly done dressing the graze. She shrugs lightly, tilting her head, "So why not grab another jacket?"

At that, Killian raises his free hand to scratch behind his ear in embarrassment, "Because when I grabbed my wallet, I dropped my keys on the counter. And left them there."

"Ah," Emma says, with a grin, "Hence the bike?"

He nods, "Yeah, not too experienced on the old bike. I tend to run into car doors."

She giggles at the memory, "Yeah, I had a similar kind of day. Sorry about flinging the door right at you."

He raises his eyebrows at her, "Oh, so a dog ate your coat too?"

She bites her lip, pressing down the adhesive dressing and hoping it doesn't pull at the hairs on his arms too much when he has to peel it off, "Didn't quite make it to that level, but it's after six and I still haven't had my first coffee of the day. If that gives you some kind of idea."

He smiles sympathetically, admiring her handiwork on his grazed arm, "And yet you still found it in your heart to help a fallen stranger."

"Yeah, well…" she turns away from him, pretending to be packing away her first aid kit because now that she's done dressing his wound, she's had the chance to take a proper look at him and he is _hot._ And he's talking to her with that stupid accent about her heart and… Ugh. This is not good. She is _not_ blushing.

He seems to sense that their time of crossing paths is coming to an end, clearing his throat, "Well, ah, thanks are in order, I believe."

She turns back around and throws him a smile, "You're welcome."

But he's not having that, "My arm's wellbeing is worth more to me than that, lass." He takes a cautious step forward, seeming to realise that her shyness may be due to some pretty heavy duty walls being flung up, "Let me take you to get a coffee."

She bites her lip again and he thinks that she's going to turn him away but, instead, she nods quietly, "Though, technically I will be taking you because I am not interested in riding tandem in any way on that bike."

He calls it a small victory in his head and nods, "Very well."

She wants to point out that they're still both drenched, but he's still a stranger and the thought of leaving him alone in her apartment while she gets changed makes her a little uneasy. So she decides it'll make a great story to tell her friends and gestures in the direction of the door, "After you."

...

It's after coffee that turned into dinner and a kiss on her cheek that'll be burning for days that she decides that maybe today wasn't so bad after all. She closes the door to her apartment quietly and leans against it with a smile. "Fuck," she breathes to the empty apartment. This could be something incredible.

…

 _ **Thoughts?**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**I couldn't help myself. This was totally meant to remain a oneshot, but too many of you beautiful people said that you would like more. So I wrote a little accompaniment which I've left open ended enough that if you beg for more I'd be likely to crumble again… Just sayin'.**_

 _ **That being said, thank you all for your kind words. Hope you like this little moment as well.**_

…

Here Comes the Sun

…

Part Two

…

"I'm definitely going to need to purchase some more jackets," he says, smiling as she leads him out onto the sidewalk out front of the restaurant they had just shared their fourth date in.

She shrugs into his kindly offered outerwear and throws a smirk over her shoulder as she cuddles into the warm fabric, "You're not wrong. This is mine now."

The leather feels soft and well-worn under her fingertips, but she still relishes in the feeling of his fingers wrapped around hers as he takes her hand, walking beside her in the direction of her apartment.

It's actually not too cool out tonight – not that she's going to mention that and have to give up being curled up in his clothing – the summer well and truly leaving them behind, but not taking all the warmth from the air just yet. There has been a threat of rain all day though, clouds rolling in and out of the otherwise clear sky, but she's cautiously optimistic that they will make it back to her place without having to deal with a change in the weather. She pulls herself in closer to Killian's side and rests her head on his shoulder, amazed with the level of comfort she feels with him after mere weeks of dating.

After their impromptu first date, things had just sort of started falling into place with them. It was surprisingly simple and there were no games. When he wanted to see her, he would call and arrange something. When she had something she wanted to share with someone, she'd text him and knew he'd reply. After a lifetime of running from people and relationships, it felt nice to be running towards something.

Being that he has to travel past her apartment every day to get home, he'd count every chance meeting as a date, worried that their busy lives might mean they never got to sit down to a quiet dinner. But, so far, they've had four dinner dates in three weeks and Emma can't help but think this might be going somewhere.

He's been the perfect gentleman with her though, taking her cautious lead and only offering a kiss to the cheek when she shies away from anything more. But his patience has only made her want him more and she's tired of shying away from someone who has done nothing but impress her at every step.

"So, what are you doing tomorrow night?" he asks, his voice pulling her from her happy reverie.

She shrugs, leaning away from him as they walk so she can turn her head to look at him. "Depends," she challenges, biting her lip.

He turns his head to meet her gaze, slowing their comfortable pace to a standstill as he lets his hands travel down her arms to clasp her fingers between his. He cocks his head to the side, as though contemplating something and, god, Emma hopes it's a kiss. He's got his eyes on her like she's an absolute treasure and she has never been so sure about a man in her life as she is now.

It should worry her that she's only known him a month, but it only comforts her to know that he's someone she can trust.

"Emma," he starts, his tone serious.

Her eyes widen suddenly; his voice is _too_ serious, "Oh god, don't you dare propose!"

He chuckles at her assumption, but shakes his head, "Not yet."

And she breathes out a sigh of relief, internally rolling her eyes at herself – it seems she is still prone to panic, no matter how sure she is of someone in her life. Somehow though, the idea of him proposing _one day_ doesn't seem to spark the same sort of panic.

"I uh, I did want to ask you something though." One of his hands untangles itself from hers and makes its way up to the back of his neck, scratching behind his ear in a gesture that Emma has come to associate with nerves.

Trying to ease his mind, she smiles and leans into him, hoping that she looks inviting and open, "Go ahead."

He gives her that shy grin, that she has become so fond of, before lowering his arm and pulling her in closer to him, "I wondered if you might consider, perhaps, being my girlfriend?"

She lets out a breathy chuckle, still as shocked as ever by him. From the moment they met he has made it no secret that he thinks of her as the most wonderful human he's ever met. She's always been concerned about being put on a pedestal, because there is so much further to fall when she inevitably disappoints the other person. With him, though, she's not afraid.

Her eyes flick to his through a heavy lidded gaze and she shrugs, "I kinda thought I already was."

Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolls through the atmosphere as though applauding their little moment of promise. But it falls upon the deaf ears of two people who have blocked the rest of the world out.

Emma Swan could very well be falling for this man and his smile at her words is everything to her. Before she can chicken out and let this fall through her fingertips, she reaches a hand up to the back of Killian's neck and pulls him down to her awaiting kiss, lips parting on a gasp the moment they touch his.

If they could focus on anything but the soft slide of lips, they would notice lightning sparking above them and another low rumble as the inevitable rain from the day approaches them. But, instead, she simply tilts her head and moans quietly as he tastes her lips, and the droplets falling from the sky begin to make their way into their embrace.

His hand slips beneath the jacket she's wearing, sliding up her back until he reaches heated skin and pressing lightly, trying to draw her even closer. She tugs at his shirt collar, one arm trapped between them, feeling the heavy thud of their twin heartbeats.

The rain starts to fall a little heavier now, clinging to their faces and sliding to where they are joined, adding to the taste of each other. Killian pulls back momentarily, Emma chasing his lips and connecting with his stubbled jawline as he looks up at the rain pouring down on them. He groans as she nips at his pulse point, "I think we might attract the rain, lass."

She grins into his neck, "There are worse things."

He walks her the rest of the way home, trying to hurry along so she won't be cold. But she tugs on his hand and slows him down, more than content to walk in the rain if it means she's walking with him. "It's okay," she tells him with a smile, "I've got your jacket."

He raises an eyebrow, "Aye love, which means I don't."

"Ah, so your rushing isn't out of chivalry."

"I'll admit to thoughts of self preservation."

She spies the foyer light of her apartment building and squeezes his hand, "Well looks like you're in luck – my apartment is just ahead."

But suddenly he is the reluctant party, slowing right down.

Standing out in the rain, he steps in closer to her and speaks in her ear, "So about tomorrow?"

Her heart is hammering so hard in her chest at the low rumble and warm breath of his voice and it takes her a moment to remember that she never did answer him about that. Biting her lip, she looks up at him to find he's moved impossibly close to her again, "I'm free for lunch."

He lets a quick kiss fall on her lips at her answer, happy that it'll be less than 24 hours before he sees her again. She doesn't seem to want to let go of tonight with just a peck though, so she pulls him firmly back to her, opening her lips under his and moaning at the quick contact of his tongue.

This kiss holds more fire than their first, a promise of nights tangled in sheets and each other held in every movement. She presses her body against his and his hand snakes around the back of her, clutching the material of the dress she wears and almost lifting her onto his hips. Breathless and panting, he breaks away, aware that they are still standing on a very public walkway. His forehead rests against hers as his eyes open slowly, seeing the way the rain drops cling to Emma's eyelashes as she, too, catches her breath. He hopes she knows how stunning he finds her in this moment.

"I should go," she whispers, barely audible over the crackle of thunder in the air and the rain collapsing at their feet, as though she doesn't really want him to hear it.

But he does, and he agrees softly with her, pulling back with a nod, "I'll pick you up at 12."

She returns his nod with a wave, stepping towards her apartment building and wishing he was coming with her, "If you're here at 11, I wouldn't be opposed."

He chuckles, waving back, "Eleven it is."

She rests heavily against the closed door of her apartment once she makes it inside, breathing slowly and trying to remember every moment of their night – the way he'd looked upon her with pride as he'd introduced her to friends they bumped into at the restaurant, the way he had pulled out her chair and opened the door for her, the way he had held her at the end of the night, intense and kind all at once.

She's been caught in the trap of falling hard and fast before, but this feels _right._ And she can't seem to explain it in any other way than that.

Smiling, she makes her way into her apartment and sheds her wet clothing as she walks towards her bathroom. She would never admit it out loud to him, but the thought of seeing Killian all day tomorrow is why she had suggested he picks her up so early. Lunch turning to dinner is definitely something that had crossed her mind. And, as she peels off her stockings and steps into the shower, hand reaching for her razor to shave her legs, she might not be opposed to dinner turning to dessert either.

…

Turns out they both have colds the next day. He brings around warm fudge brownies for dessert.

…

 _ **Thoughts?**_


End file.
